


Le Petit Prince

by ImberNox



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Austria and France don't do anything, Fluff, FrUK, Historical AU, It's more just England being paranoid, Le Petit Prince AU, M/M, because be honest, but it has some hints of it, by Antoine de Saint-Exupery, its like one line tbh, le petit prince looks exactly like Arthur, really vague on the Sufin, the usuk is entirely platonic friends, uses quotes from Le Petit Prince at times
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-26 05:02:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 14,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7561477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImberNox/pseuds/ImberNox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Petit Prince AU and Historical Hetalia combined</p><p>Arthur goes to the New World and remembers/learns the true importance of living. All the while, he fails to understand just why Europe has become so heavy, and he struggles to find solace in the relationship between France and himself.</p><p>Country names used. Highly references and uses ideas of characters, and plot motions, from Petit Prince while sticking to a mostly-accurate historical view of English history in the New World from 1700-1782.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Drawing - Le Premier Dessin

Back when I was a very young country, I saw, once, a detailed image in a book on the maiden forest called "Expert History". It was an image of a snake that was swallowing a wild animal. It said in the book, 'Snakes swallow their prey whole, without chewing. Then, they cannot move, and they sleep for six months during their digestion'. 

I then reflected on the happenings of the forest, and, in turn, I succeeded in, with a colored pencil, tracing my first drawing.

I showed my drawing to adults, and I asked them if the drawing evoked fear in them. And they responded with 'Why would a hat frighten me?'. 

But my drawing did not show a hat. It showed a snake that had swallowed a horse. I then drew the inside of the snake so that adults could understand. Adults always need explanations.

Adults advised me to let go of drawings of snakes, open or closed, and to interest myself instead with geography, history, maths, and grammar. Therefore, I abandoned, at one century of age, a magnificent career of painting and drawing. I had been disheartened, discouraged, by the failure of my first two drawings. Adults do not understand anything on their own, and it is tiresome for children, always and always, to give them explanations.

So, I was thus forced to choose another profession, and I chose to learn how to navigate ships. I sailed around the world. And the geography, so precise, it served me well on my ventures. I knew how to recognize, with a fleeting first glance, the land near which I was. It was useful if we found ourselves lost during the night.

And I therefore had, during my life, heaps upon heaps of contacts with serious people. I lived in so many homes of adults. I saw them up close. It did not much improve my opinion. When I met one person who seemed, to me, sober, I did the honor of showing them my first drawing, which I have always preserved. I wanted to know if they were truly understandable. But they always told me, 'It is a hat'. Then, I did not speak to them of snakes, or of maiden forests, or of stars. I put myself within their reach. I spoke to them of bridge, and golf, and politics, and neckties. And the adult was quite content with knowing a man who was also reasonable.


	2. Couchers de Soleil, Catastrophe de Baobabs, et La Rose

There once was a little prince, because that was all what England really was, a little prince of his land, that had need of a friend. For those of you who understand life, you would know that life is so much easier to understand with a companion at one's side.

England's story is quite sorrowful, as was his life back as a lonely country. There were several times throughout his life that he seemed different from his own self. At times, he seemed so large that it seemed impossible for him to feel any kind of doubt or worry. At other times, he was so small that it was near unbelievable that he survived in the ragged world around him.

And of course, not every country had a friend. Most countries were too sickly and weak, some were too rash and young, some were too old and distant, and some were much more interested in numbers than they were in happiness. Some were concerned much more with power, and more power, and the power they had over others. Some were concerned with themselves so much that they could not possibly have care left in them for another. Some were too obsessed with money, others with knowledge, and some others with duty. It was quite hard to find a suitable friend in the world.

And Arthur always expected a bit much from countries, things that other countries could not give him. He always assumed others to be similar to him. But truly, other countries could not see things that were hidden within cases and behind curtains. Perhaps they had gotten busier, they must have.

England was always prepared to ask others a million questions, but quite rarely did he seem to be able to hear others' questions. Everything known about England to others seemed to come in small, random reflections. England grew up in the British Isles, a cluster of islands rather separate from the rest of the world. England was always defending himself from something or someone. First came the Vikings. Then, the Romans came to invade and conquer. The people of Gaul, the people of Normandy were next.

Indeed, near the lands of England, as there are in all lands, there was evil and good. Good countries arose from good people, and bad countries arose from bad people. But people are difficult to understand. They sleep in the secrecy and security of their fellow people until one of them takes a fancy to wake up. Then, they stretch past the confines of their society and walk timidly towards the path of the sun as a beautiful person, harmless and little. Good people can be left to their own devices to grow, and learn, and do great things.

But if there is an evil, it must be destroyed as soon as it is recognized as evil. Now, there were some terribly evil countries near England's lands. So many came to invade England's lands. It was too easy for the land to become infested. Evil, if timed too late, can never be gotten rid of. If evil invades a country, it encumbers the entire land. It pierces through the people. And if the land is small, and the evil widespread, then the country is left to devastating end.

It's a matter of discipline, really. When one finishes their morning duties, they must then attend to the duties of the land. One must be compelled to destroy evil countries, and to distinguish evil people from good people despite their similarity in appearance at first glance. It is tedious work, but it is easy work. While it is sometimes not inconvenient to procrastinate on work, one cannot allow evil to manifest and grow in its strength. It becomes a catastrophe if left unchecked.

So it is the business of even small countries such as England to stop invasions lest they be left to their end.

... ... ... ... ...

It is easy to understand England's melancholy life, little by little. He liked to distract himself with the softness of sunsets. He quite liked sunsets. But he disliked having to wait for the sun to go down in order to see one. And when it is noon in America, the whole world knows, the sun is setting over England. It would be pleasant to travel in between those two places within a minute to watch the sunsets, but they are too far away from each other.

England desired to, one day, be large enough in land to be able to only walk to a different part of his country, set down his chair, and see another sunset. He wanted to watch the twilight whenever he wanted. So that, at any moment, the sun would always be setting over him, and yet it would never completely disappear from his skies. England would have endless access to the distractions he both loved, and yet so desperately seemed to need.

He wished to be able to watch forty-three sunsets in a single day.

But he only watched sunsets when he was sad. When asked why he was so sad that he would need to distract himself forty-three times in a single day with the same soft sight, the little prince did not make a reply.

... ... ... ... ... 

England long kept to himself, sealed away behind his lips and hidden away in the depths of his mind, a problem long meditated in silence.

And he expressed this problem through abrupt questions, lacking preamble: "If all countries possess both allies and enemies, then what is the point of their defensiveness?" Most people would ignore the question, as they deemed themselves too busy or irritated or otherwise occupied in order to properly answer. But England never let go of a question once he had asked it. "What is the point of countries' defensiveness?"

And some people would answer that it is the pure wickedness of countries that makes them retain their prickly defenses even against allies and friends.

And after a silent pause, during which England thought about the answer given to him, the little prince would glance at those people with a kind of resentment. And he would protest, angrily, "I don't believe you! The countries are small, and they are naive, and they are young! They reassure themselves with what they can! They believe that they are safe and strong behind their defenses!"

And the people would attempt, in vain, to take back the harshness of their words. But only half-heartedly did they make this attempt, for they were too busy with their business or with their industry, and they would appear disgusting to England. They would claim that they had larger issues with serious matters. And England would look at them, stupefied. For what did these people believe to be serious?

And he would yell, "You confuse everything! You mismatch and change everything!"

And England would continue, "I know a land where there was a gentleman. He never smelled a flower. He never saw a star. He never loved a person. He never did anything that wasn't meaningless. And he repeated all day, every day, that he was a serious man. That he was a serious man. But he wasn't a man. He was nothing more than a fungus." And the little prince, England, would then be pale with anger.

And he would walk back to his home, still pale. And he would make sure the house was empty. And he would hide in his room, make sure the windows were closed, make sure the doors were closed and locked, and make sure the curtains were drawn. He would sit on his bed, and then he would pour out, in words barely distinguishable between choked sobs and screams and cries, the problem long meditated in silence.

He would wail, "There are millions of years in which countries build their barriers. There are millions of years that others invade, and destroy, and leave them to end anyway. And it is not so serious to seek understanding why they take so much trouble to build their barriers which are never used for anything other than keeping out potential close allies? It is not important, the war between good and evil? It is not more serious and more important to understand the meaningless actions of a man who never smells flowers or gazes at the stars? And to know him, a single country as beautiful as a rose, more beautiful than anything else and most unique of anything else in the world, which exists nowhere but in my heart and exists simply for me, that one thing of evil could annihilate him in one stroke, without even possibly realizing it; is that not important?"

And the little prince would blush horribly between his anguished, wracked breaths wrenched from his small lungs that were too burdened by tremendous amounts of upset and love.

England would continue, "If someone loves a country as beautiful as a rose, that exists nowhere in the entire universe but for one person out of the millions and millions of stars, that is enough to make them happy to look at him. My love is somewhere, but if evil destroys him, it is for me as if, suddenly, all the stars in the sky will be darkened, even extinguished forever. And that is not important?"

And he could no more. He broke out, profusely, into anguished tears. The night was falling, the night had fallen. There was on a planet, near a star, on Earth, in the British Isles, a little prince too desperately upset to be able to ever be consoled. He wrapped his own arms around his own legs, curled up around himself in the middle of his bed on top of the patched, quilted comforter. He rocked himself. And he said to himself, perhaps out of hope, perhaps out of delirious mistake, perhaps out of certainty, 

"The country you love, as beautiful as a rose, is not in danger...I will forever forge more armor for my love, I will be his armor...I..."

And no one, if anyone were present, would no how to reach, or how to join.

It's so mysterious, the land of tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus begins our understanding of the world in which England, our little prince, feels trapped in. He is still quite weak, though we don't suppose he'll ever be truly too strong. He has such a fragile mind, though his body and country can take quite a lot. We'll see how far it gets him.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed, dearies.
> 
> This includes quotes from Le Petit Prince chapters II, III, IV, V, VI, and VII.  
> Again, I do not own over half of the dialogue or plot. It's mostly my own translation of Le Petit Prince, though I have changed many lines to better suit England, and I have added new lines of my own to add more of a richness to the text (though the original text is by far superior to any altercations I could suggest).


	3. elle m'attendit - It Moves Me

England met his love way before anything outside of Europe was made aware to his knowledge. His love was, in fact, one of the earliest countries he ever met. Where Norway and Denmark and Sweden were first, they had to them roughness and some strange mannerisms that England found unable to be reciprocated, or even understood. They left, and England was alone. The Romans had no care for the people, and England tried with all his might to keep them out. Eventually, they left.

But his love came to him a touch more gently than the others. Apparently related to Rome, England thought for sure that he would despise the young country who had been rumored to be eavesdropping on English conversations and planning to make an appearance in their lands. England's duty was to defend against evil, and it has already been said how similar evil and good can appear during their earliest stages. And it wasn't without extreme luck, on both sides, that England was more prepared to meet the unfamiliar country before defending against him.

... ... ... ... ...

There had always been, in the lands of the little prince, very simple people, decorated in their simple garb, who had no true place and bothered no one. And their lives seemed so short to England, who would live to see more than a few millennia. It seemed as if they appeared one morning, and then they died in the evening. But there were some that were different, like he was and like Rome or Denmark or Sweden were. And one day, he heard of another, like him, in the neighboring land across the channel. Knowledge of this neighbor sprouted suddenly once day, brought from a rumor started who knows where, and England very closely listened to these stories and watched his ports for any arrival from that land. England believed the rumors, that this country was unlike all others.

It could be a new evil. But the land over which this country ruled never seemed to grow tremendously in size, and it had experienced rule under other empires long before. England had been intensely listening to the talk of his people, and heard rumor of a visit from said older country. England was convinced of the country's arrival, and told himself repeatedly, quietly, that it would be like some miraculous apparition. But this country took its time in planning its visit; it made good effort to quickly finish preparing to be beautiful and and flawless, sheltered yet from sight by the channel between them.

And when the time came for the country to arrive on England's land in a grand introduction, he chose his colors carefully. He dressed slowly, adjusted his clothes and his hair carefully. He would not not arrive all rumpled, like the common folk of any land. He wanted to appear only in the full radiance of his beauty. Yes, he was known for being very flirtatious. His adornment lasted for days and days. 

And he, arriving finally in the ports of the English lands, meeting England, let out a fake yawn and stretched in an attempt to flaunt his clothes and his form. "Ah! I'm still a bit weary from traveling away from my lands. I'm sorry, I'm still a bit disheveled."

The little prince could not contain his admiration.

"How beautiful you are!"

There was a huge grin that spread across the country's face. "Aren't I?" responded he sweetly. "And I was born at the same time as the sun itself. I am called France."

England thought to himself that this country was definitely less than humble or modest, yet he was so moved by the stranger that it seemed not to matter.

"It seems that it is time for breakfast," the France mused. "Perhaps, if you would have the kindness, you would think of my needs."

And England, completely abashed, seeking out the finest food he could conjure from any of his land's cooks, served the country. France had so begun to torment England with his touchy vanity. One day during his stay, for example, speaking of his borders and barriers, said to England,

"They can come, enemies with their swords and arrows."

"There are no enemies here," England had objected, "and then they would not fight foreigners."

"Am I so foreign to you?" France had gently put.

"I am sorry."

But France then continued without pausing to consider England's words, "Enemies do not frighten me, but being alone and cold quite does. Do you have somewhere a bit warmer for us to stay?"

Afraid of the cold...that's not good luck for a country, England had noticed. This country is very complicated...

"At night, you shall make sure the house is free from all draft. It is very cold at your home. It creates bad things. Where I come from..."

But he was interrupted. He had come from a place England could not visit for some time, and it was quite rude to brag of worlds that the other had never even been aware of. Humiliated by his own mistake, at being too naive, he coughed two or three times to put England in the wrong.

"A warmer place?"

"I was going to lead us, but then you spoke."

Then, he forced his cough to inflict more remorse.

... ... ... ... ...

Overtime, their relationship changed. And England, despite the goodwill of his love, had soon become to doubt France. He had taken seriously more and more the bragging words lacking importance, and he had become unhappy. He began to think that one should never listen to foreigners, just look and ally themselves. France flitted all about England, but England could not rejoice. The tale of borders and barriers, which had annoyed him so much, softened him. England did not know how to handle France, who seemed to speak so mindlessly and so frivolously, only then to offer the most meaningful and loving of actions whenever he and England were alone enough to risk doing so: holding hands when sitting alone and reading, or going out to the hills to learn all the names of England's favorite wildflowers, or being content enough to watch the sunrise and sunset with only England.

England did not know what to do.

... ... ... ... ...

He decided to take advantage of the pilgrimage to the New World as his escape. On the morning of his departure from his lands, he made sure his lands were in order. He carefully cleaned out issues in the government, as he had already two hot-headed leaders, and a potential one on the rise. And it was very convenient to have strong leaders in the case of his soon-to-be absence. But England always said, "You never know," and he made sure their power was in check. Power-hungry leaders, to countries, are nuisances and simply an annoying, necessary evil to put up with for a short amount of time. Obviously, to humans, ordinary people are much too small and weak in comparison to easily put up with our awful leaders. That is why they bring a lot of trouble. 

England also pulled up, with some sadness, the last roots of evil in his lands from the threat of the people. He believed he would endeavor to never come back. But all those familiar daily tasks seemed, to him, suddenly so sweet. And when he spent the sunrise and breakfast with France for the last time, and prepared to send France out of his country, he discovered the urge to cry. He approached France after breakfast, pretending to wish for a walk by the docks. But when the pair arrived at the docks, France's ship was ready to sail. France had eyed England closely after this realization.

"Farewell," England said to France.

But France did not answer him.

"Farewell", he repeated.

France coughed, but it was not because of the cold.

"I was stupid," he said finally. "I am sorry, I beg your pardon. Strive to be happy. Do not send me off with any parting gifts; I do not want them."

England was surprised by the absence of reproach. He stood there, all bewildered, the gifts still in his satchel. He did not understand this quiet sweetness.

"Yes, I love you," said France. "You did not know anything, by my fault. It is of no importance. You have also been as foolish as me. Strive to be happy."

"But the cold."

"It's not so bad, being cold. The cool, night air will do me good. I am a country."

"But enemies..."

"It must be that I endeavor a few hardships if I want to see the happier, good times. It seems that happiness is always so beautiful. Otherwise what shall comfort me? You will be far away. As for the enemies, I fear nothing. I have my borders and my barriers."

And he gestured lightly to his sword by his belt, and to the armed men who had his ship ready to sail. Then he added, "Do not drag on like this, it is annoying. You decided to have me leave, and you decided to leave your lands yourself. Go away."

Because he did not want England to see him weeping. He was a proud country.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> France isn't as hypocritical as he seems to England. Really, it's him being nearly equally as young as England and struggling to keep up his status as a country while yet he feels strong attachment to England. What else can you expect; they're still quite too young to know how to balance their emotions. Really, though, France is quite sweet to England. Truly.
> 
> This is from Chapters VIII and IX in Le Petit Prince.
> 
> This translation was TERRIBLE to do, however. There were a lot of language nuances that had me scrambling through a bunch of websites and through some translators because my dictionaries weren't quite enough to successfully pull through. Yet, I still prefer the French version. It has a certain sweetness to it that is just kind of lost through translation.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! (and I still own practically nothing in regards to the story)


	4. Le Roi de Chine

After many months of sailing, and seeing sights that amazed him, England found himself in the area of China, a large and bountiful land whose riches were luxurious beyond measure. The stories told by the returning soldiers some hundreds of years ago were true in every aspect; the lands past the Black Sea were a sight to behold. England looked over the land with keen approval.

Thus began a visit and a search for a sphere of influence, or perhaps an improved trade route, and perhaps to learn whatever it was that these Asian peoples could teach him and his fellow Europeans.

England first met China at the palace, where the English merchants were greeted by the rulers of China, the emperor and his advisers; much like in Europe, Asian lands still gave high regard to country personifications and treated them as treasure of a sort: to be ordered around, but also cherished. The palace was extravagant, bursting with colors and fabrics that England only fleetingly saw at home when his monarchs bought the valued items from respected merchants, bought to be stored away in chests as part of the royal stash which made the crown so rich. The dining hall that they had passed still smelled of the cuisine probably only recently served, and the scents of the mingling spices alone were enough to entrance England.

Yes, despite all the faith and love his France had for French cuisine, England saw that the Chinese (and all of Asia for that matter) had superior taste for all that France lacked. And England felt a spike of superiority to France, having now gotten his hands on land and goods better than France's possessions. France had lied when he said his food was best in the world, and England relished in being the one to bring Europe's attention to the falsity of the French personification.

England thought of many things as he walked to the throne room, of his home, of Asia, of his own weariness after the long voyage, of how he would defeat the Dutch and throw them out of Asian waters, but his mind came to a stumbling halt at the sight of the Chinese emperor and the personification of China.

He was unlike any European, or American, that England had met (though in reality he should not have been as shocked as he was, for of course an Asian country would differ from a country further to the West). Most definitely, the country held himself in the likeness of a king. In fact, England guiltily would add to other Europeans later, that he needed a moment to squint at the personification of China to confirm that he was, indeed, male. And after the personification spoke, England made sure to look again. 

Sitting on a very majestic throne, China was dressed in purple, red, and ermine. “Ah, here is a subject!” cried China when he made eye contact with England.

And England thought to himself, feeling somewhat insulted and partially aggressive, 'How is it that he recognizes me as a subject, when I have never given any a reason to allow anyone to think so of myself? He has never seen me before this moment, and I have never seen him.'

England did not know, so well at the time, that to a wealthy country, the entire world is their subject, and the world is thus very simple to rich countries.

“Come here so that I may see you, and greet you, better,” the emperor told the Englishmen, for both the emperor and China were highly pleased that they had met yet more people to pay them outlandishly for, what were to them, simple commodities.

England looked for a place to sit, but the entire room was covered in brightly-colored rug and pillows appearing to be as soft as the fluffiest of clouds, and he did not dare to disturb the expensive furniture that littered the ground. The men in his company were also too in awe and fearful respect of the decorations, and they remained still, though slumped with fatigue. England did not move to sit, and his men made no move to act out of line with their nation. But the men, including England, were tired, and, it seemed almost planned for it was so simultaneous, they yawned.

“It is quite in the contrary of good manners to yawn in front of royalty,” China spoke, haughty and offended. “I forbid you to do so within my presence.”

“We cannot prevent ourselves,” replied England, somewhat embarrassed that his plethora of social graces had failed him in the presence of such figures. “We have made a long voyage across the seas, and we have not slept since before we reached port yesterday.”

“Then,” said China, “I order you to yawn. It is not often we are in the company of new countries from Europe, and your manners fascinate us. It is for our curiosity, of course. Go on, then, if you must. It's an order.”

The men fidgeted behind England, suddenly developing obscene interests in the buckles of their boots and the buckles of their jackets, and even the buckets of their belts. One man, England recognized him as Mr. Fredericks, the carpenter of his company, was brave enough to say, “It is not as if it is a voluntary movement, your honor, your majesty. Such attention cannot warrant an action of relaxation.”

“Hum! Hum!” ticked China. “Then I ... I order you sometimes to yawn and sometimes...”

China sputtered somewhat, and his emperor looked vexed.

For China held essentially that his authority was respected. He tolerated no disobedience. His emperor was absolute, as was China therefore. But as China was good, he made his orders reasonable. He had seen, much too often throughout his ancient life, what unreasonable orders gave leaders: rebellions and break-offs and lost persons. He did not wish to lose this business venture, nor his emperor's good regards.

China spoke then, “If I ordered,” and then he paused to level his voice and hide his slight discomfort with the European visitors. “If I ordered a general to change himself into a sea bird, and the general did not obey, it would not be the fault of the general. It would be my fault.” China wondered if this was enough to impress the company.

England only asked “May we sit?”

China nodded his head briskly. “I order you and your company to sit,” he corrected. When the company did not move, but looked confusedly at the floor, some searching for chairs presumably, China pointed towards the cushions on the floor. “You sit upon the cushions,” he explained.

And China wondered to himself how odd these foreigners must be to not know where even to sit. Had the seating arrangements offended the visitors? Upon closer examination, the sailors seemed content with the cushions, some even prodding the fabric like small toddlers. And China found himself looking at the personification of the European country; England, he had introduced himself as.

And England was wondering how strange it was to sit on pillows and drapes, meant for bed chambers, in front of royalty, and upon the floor no less. But the seats were indeed comfortable, and the fabric soft as down feathers used to stuff pillows back in his homeland. He had no complaints. And he found himself drawn to glance at the Asian nation's personification, only to see those amber-tinted eyes watching him right back. England dared not to break the gaze and seem intimidated by one he could so easily defeat.

England was, quite honestly, astonished. The land was so large and plentiful, that much had already been proven. And the citizens of the nation seemed to not even think of questioning the rule of their emperor. But it was deafeningly, blindingly clear to England that China lacked any true power to fight and win against a European power.

Carefully, he asked a bothersome question, “Sire,” he paused when the emperor turned to look at him. But when it became clear that England's words were meant for the personification of China rather than its leader, the emperor took on a more relaxed, less alert, air. England continued. “I beg your pardon that I should ask you...”

And China quickly cut in, “I order you to ask me whatever it is that nags at your mind.”

England hesitated a moment longer, feeling rather nostalgic to conversations he and France used to have, when France was in the mood to demand England's worship. England made a note to himself that he did not like China.

“Over what do you rule?” asked England.

“Over everything.”

“Over everything?”

China gestured to his throne room and towards the windows, designating what seemed to be all the lands within his reach.

“Over all of the land?” asked England.

“Over everything,” China replied.

For not only was China an absolute ruler, but he was universal. To him, no land could hold anything against him for value of culture and monetary value of his goods.

England was not so convinced. “And everything obeys you?” he asked.

“Of course,” China had not caught the doubt and jest of the European nation. “Everything obeys immediately my command. I do not tolerate insubordination.”

If he had been so fool-hardy, England would have been amazed by such power. And secretly, he was jealous of the idea. If he possessed such power, he could attend not forty-four, but seventy-two, or even a hundred, or even two-hundred sunsets in the same day without ever having to traverse the world and leave France. And he softly felt a touch sad because of the memory, a good memory, of his neighbor and his country that he had abandoned. England, then, in a moment of stupidity and enjoyment and false hope bundled into one packet, became brave enough in his confidence that he sought China's and the emperor's graces.

“I would like to see a sunset,” spoke England. When he felt China's and the emperor's eyes on him, he realized his mistake. But as a proud (and stubborn) nation, England continued nevertheless. “Do me a favor, direct the sun to set.” He demanded this of his hosts so surely that he lived up to his title of prince.

The emperor seemed ready to speak, but China answered instead. This was a matter of impressions between nation personifications. “If I ordered a general to fly from one flower to another in the manner of a butterfly, or to write a tragedy, or to change into a sea bird, and the general did not carry out the order received, which, him or me, would be in the wrong?”

England answered without hesitation, “You would be in the wrong.”

“Exactly,” sighed China. “He does require each what each can give. The authority rests first on the right. If you order your people to go jump into the sea, it will craft a revolution. But I have the right to require obedience because my orders are reasonable.”

England was not deterred by a speech blanketed in poetry. “Then my sunset?”

“Your sunset you will get. I will insist upon its existence. But I'll wait in my science of government, until conditions are favorable.”

“When will it be?” asked England, waiting patiently to see how China would react to such an exact question, to the responsibility of making an impossible thing be possible.

China called one of his staff over, an astronomer, to tell him the predicted time of sunset upon that day. “That will be about...about... it will be tonight at seven forty. And you will see how well I am obeyed by everything.”

England yawned widely. He regretted not being able to see his sunset. And then, England became a bit bored despite all the show and flash of China.

“I have no more to say, nothing more to do here,” England announced. “I'll leave.”

“Do not go!” the emperor then cried out, interrupting the tense air between his nation's personification and the personification that the Englishmen had traveled with. “I shall sign a trading deal between us.”

England very carefully considered this. “What will be the conditions?”

“Well...you may share exclusively with us,” the emperor decided.

England shifted his weight, as he and his company were already standing and poised to leave the place. “There's hardly anyone else to steal our trade away from me,” England snorted. But then he remembered the Spanish and the Portuguese ships his crew kept hearing rumors about, ships who had already sailed to China and established trading ties.

“That is unclear to you,” the emperor insisted, “but plenty have come to us with offers of trade, that we have accepted. Do you not wish to have the same agreements for the same riches and powers? You have not yet toured the entirety of my kingdom.”

“Oh, but I have already seen your kingdom on our visit to your palace. Sign me the trade agreement, to guarantee me that there will be no one here.” England turned around to face the doors.

“The trade agreement between us is at the most advantage to you, who will reap the riches that we have to offer you. You will be richest in all of the land where you come from, far away past the oceans that you have traveled to arrive here. If you succeed in landing this deal with us, then you will truly be a great country,” the emperor spoke and spoke as he and his advisers hurriedly designed the agreement.

“I,” said England, “I am already the greatest in the land where I come from. I do not need a slip of parchment to tell me so.”

“I do believe that with this trade agreement, you will have the most power on the seas. You can sentence anyone to death that you wish, if you feel that they do not pass your judgment,” the emperor continued.

“Me,” replied England, “I do not prefer to condemn anyone to death. If death becomes a punishment that is in use under my jurisdiction, it will be in use only because it is of the utmost necessity. I think I'll be going now.”

No, said the king.

But England, having completed his preparations, having the trade agreement now in his hand, had no wish to grieve the old monarch and the personification of China.

He said, quite kindly, in fact, “If your Majesty was desirous to be promptly obeyed, he would give me a reasonable order. He could order me, for example, to leave right now. It seems to me that conditions are favorable.”

The emperor and his country's personification said nothing. England hesitated at first, then sighed, and made his departure with his men.

“I will give you jurisdiction over my ports,” cried the emperor, wishing desperately for England's money. He attempted an air of authority.

China did not say a word, only watching in a mixture of mild embarrassment and mild amusement. After so many thousands of years of living, he knew England would be back. It made no matter the foolish words of his desperate emperor. Trade agreements bound a country, yes, but their greed bound them further. China raised a hand in farewell to England, but England did not turn around to see it. They had both quite decided that they did not like each other.

'Powerful men are so odd', England thought to himself on the trip back to Europe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, that was a long wait (and a really long chapter, dear lord; it was seven pages by the time I finished).
> 
> I apologize for the delay, I kept sitting down at my computer, opening the book, and then losing all interest. In my defense, I did take three summer classes and had summer work to do for other classes, so that also played a role in the delay.
> 
> A lot of writing I had to do around the translated dialogue, so I hope it flowed at least decently.
> 
> I won't give a promise for the next update, as I'm going to Virginia for a bit, but I'll make sure to bring the book and my laptop along in case I get a rush of inspiration whilst in the hotel room before going to bed.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!


	5. Le Vaniteux et L'Admirateur (pas)

The next land that England visited was ruled by a conceited country.

“Ah, ah!” crowed the country. “Here is a visit from an admirer!” cried the conceited country as soon as he caught sight of England and his company as they were led into the great hall of the royal house of Prussia.

England was not as naive as he was on his visit to China; he knew that, to a conceited country, all other countries and men alike were admirers. Prussia surely thought so, he was dressed quite regally along with his ruler, and he held his chin higher than what England deemed proper.

“Greetings,” said England. “Thank you, to your country and your ruler, for inviting us for this meeting in your house.”

Prussia grinned widely, and England found himself unnerved by the sheer audacity and decibel of this other country. England had always been smaller, somewhat weaker, and he thus promised himself to never become like the conceited country.

“You have interesting hair and eyes,” England then said, seeking for a reaction other than vanity.

The other country seemed to falter, and England caught a hint of malice in his countenance, before it was brushed away by further boasting. “Yes, it catches the attention of all I meet. People admire it, even. Sadly, there are not enough people to admire my beauty.”

England felt a sudden, uncontrollable urge to snort. “Oh, really?” he said, not understanding what the country found so awesome about himself.

“Mm, yes. In fact, I do believe it is common courtesy to bow before a monarch,” thus said Prussia, eyeing England.

England bowed, and the rest of his company followed suit. Prussia grinned only further, and England remained hunched for some time as the conceited country and his leader continued to silently gloat their superiority.

'This is even more amusing than the visit to China' England thought to himself. He remained bowed until his back began to ache and his mind became tired with the monotony of bowing and watching foreign royals revel in unseen, non-existing power, and he then righted himself into a proper standing position.

“And if someone does not like your hair or your eyes?” England prodded.

But the conceited country did not hear England speak. Conceited people never hear anything but praise.

“Do you really admire me very much?” Prussia asked England.

And England was struck again with memories of France, how vain that country had been, always talking of the length of his hair or the fabric of his clothes or the shape of his face. France, always talking about himself, while England sat with a thousand words on his tongue that he did not get to say.

England stood there, deciding all at once that he did not like Prussia either. “What do you mean by admire?” he asked quite cautiously.

“To admire me,” smirked Prussia, “means to recognize that I am the best man, the best dressed, the richest, and most intelligent man of this country.”

“But you are this country,” England protested, feeling quite smart with himself.

Prussia seemed to not be so terribly bothered. “Do me this favor, and admire me all the same.”

How incredibly vain one must be to not feel the slightest insecurity at their mistake. England stood with his men, not particularly drawn to the personification of the country of Prussia. He looked around the throne room, towards the ruler, towards the staff watching them, and to the little boy standing beside Prussia's throne with blonde hair and blue eyes that England was not quite sure he recognized, but surely the young boy was Germanic and under Prussia's reign. England glanced back at the white-haired country.

“I admire you,” said England, shrugging his shoulders slightly, “but how can that be so interesting for you?”

Prussia said nothing, and England left. He had nothing more to do or say within Prussia's borders, and his company was not stopped by any force.

On the trip to the next country he was supposed to meet, England thought to himself, 'Adults and other countries alike are decidedly very, very odd.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized one of my tags says "some Petit Prince quotes". Haha, yeah, this fic is 99% Petit Prince quotes. Whoops.
> 
> This was an incredibly short chapter (only two pages), so I could easily get this done. Judging by the page length of the next chapter (one), I'll probably have it translated and done by tomorrow. THEN I go to Virginia and you can expect a semi-hiatus for the week.
> 
> Enjoy, sorry if Prussia was too OOC. I have a hard time writing anything with him.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed.


	6. Le Buveur, Les Collections de Bouteilles, et La Honte

England's next visit took him to Denmark, a land with good riches and good allies across the ocean and at home. England had met relatives of Denmark before, during his baby years as a nation, and he vaguely remembered his attempts to force the Vikings, the Norwegians and the Swedes and the Danish, out from his borders. But he was also aware that Norway was quite friendly to talk with, and England hoped Denmark was a respectable nation therefore, seeming to be on very good terms with Norway.

The throne room was grand, without the gloating atmosphere of Prussia or China, but definitely grand. But England and his company were greeted only by the monarchs at their home. Their personification of Denmark was away in Norway for the time being, and the English visitors had to wait a week before his return.

England spent his time touring the country in thanks to the carriage and attendants provided to him by the grace of the Danish royalty. He found that he liked the country, especially its port cities, and came back to the home of the monarchs only a day before their personification was expected.

When introduced to Denmark, England found himself at odds with the mental image he had prepared himself with. He expected someone perhaps taller, closer to Sweden, and more than a bit quieter, for he failed to see what exactly Norway found appealing in Denmark's loud personality. But loud as Denmark was, England supposed they had caught him at a rough time. He had a melancholy air about him. While he spoke with great power and cheer, England saw that something in Norway had dampened his spirits.

So, England made the mistake of asking Denmark to go drinking with him. And Denmark made the mistake of accepting. There went good first impressions.

The night started out slowly, England barely daring to drink despite his love for the drink, as he was very cautious of seeming foolish in front of an older, more affluent country. But Denmark seemed to lack all inhibition. He drank his first mug quickly, and just as quickly downed the second when it was delivered to him. 

As personification of the country, Denmark was allowed any drink he liked, and soon enough, he had a collection of empty bottles and a collection of full bottles in a wall on the counter around where he sat.

“Why are you drinking so much?”England finally asked after the Dane's eighth bottle.

“I'm drinking to forget,” Denmark replied, his speech indeed quite slurred by this point.

England sipped more at his own drink, wondering idly if he should attempt to take the Dane away from the beer and back to the palace for his royals to keep an eye on. But he also considered that, with all that countries face between responsibilities and relationships, Denmark deserved to try and find peace in drink.

“Forget what?” England asked.

Denmark did not answer immediately as he had before. He was quiet. Most likely thinking, more than definitely reanalyzing something already analyzed a hundred times before and a hundred times again. England did not understand the value in over-thinking something. It only created worse problems for the thinker, who would undoubtedly grow plagued by their thoughts.

“To forget that I am ashamed,” Denmark finally confessed, looking down rather than meeting England's eyes.

“Ashamed of what?” England was either incredibly insensitive or too inebriated to care, though England would much rather prefer to look at himself as being the former.

Again, Denmark hesitated to speak. Where England sat at a loss of what could possibly happen during a week-long stay with a presumed close friend, Denmark was continuously rethinking and rethinking his duties to the Norwegian people, how he continuously seemed to do nothing but fail to meet their needs and expectations. He thought of the constant forgiveness of their personification, Norway, who seemed never to blame him for the troubles the Norwegian people faced, opting to instead try and motivate Denmark to run the empire according to the Danish royalty's desires, not the Norwegian peasants. Denmark was thinking of money and food and clothes and warmth, a majority of which his best friend was lacking while he retained all of these things in plenty.

“Ashamed of myself,” Denmark answered, and he locked himself then in silence.

England thus took the Dane back to the home of his royalty, denied the royals' apologies, and gathered his men. They left, and England was more or less perplexed.

'Adults and countries alike are decidedly very, very odd,' he thought to himself during his trip further onward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, the very short chapter.
> 
> I must confess, the drinker was my favorite person that the little prince met amongst those asteroids. I found his story kinda deep, as the original text has that the drinker drinks in order to forget his shame over drinking. Which. Is actually really sad.
> 
> And of course England really isn't going to help with Denmark's struggle.
> 
> (I've also gotten rather lazy about proofreading so I'm sorry if there are errors(?))
> 
> Alrighty, that's it for now. Enjoy!


	7. L'Homme d'Affaires et Ses Etoiles

The fourth country that England visited was the country of the Netherlands, or Holland, as he was called then. The Netherlands was a businessman. And when England entered his shoreside home, absolutely pristine from both the exterior and interior, the country was so busy that he did not even lift his head to the arrival of England, a foreign country and rising power.

“Greetings,” England began, then noticed that Netherlands held a smoke between his teeth, which was out. “Your smoke is extinguished,” he pointed out then, as if perhaps the Netherlands was not aware. England was not entirely sure, in fact, that the Netherlands was.

There was not a response immediately, which was quite rude in comparison to the manners England held himself to. Instead, there was the steady drone of numbers being counted and added and fused.

“Three and two make five. Five and seven make twelve. Twelve and three make fifteen.” Then, without glancing up at England, the Netherlands spared a single, “Hello.” He then returned to his previous business.

“Fifteen and seven make twenty-two. Twenty-two and six make twenty-eight.”

England stood there, feeling distinctly ignored.

But then, “No time to light it again.”

And the counting continued. “Twenty-six and five make thirty-one. Then, that makes five-hundred and one million, six-hundred and twenty-two thousand, seven-hundred and thirty-one.”

England blinked, realizing that his earlier comment on the country's smoke had been acknowledged. But then he became confused as to what the country was counting. So he asked, “Five-hundred million what?”

“Huh?” and the Netherlands finally spared England a glance.

England swallowed thickly, feeling very small in comparison to the height of the other country, although the Netherlands was currently hunched over a desk, and feeling quite inferior to the calm and detached air to the country's eyes. Aloof, England reasoned would be a fitting description.

“You're still here?” And then, the admiration disappated like beads of water sizzling off into steam when coming into contact with hot stone.

“Five-hundred and one million...I do not know anymore...” Netherlands did not seem to be thinking too hard, England noted wryly. The other country was too busy finding other work. “I have so much work! I'm serious, I am incapable of being amused; amusement is quite nonsense.

“Two and five makes seven.”

'Quite nonsense indeed', England thought. Though, he believed the man's obsession with numbers to be more nonsense than the pleasures of having fun.

“Five-hundred and one million of what?” repeated England, who never in his life forgot a question once he had asked it.

The Netherlands raised his head again, fixing England with an uncomfortable stare.

“For the fifty centuries that I have inhabited this land, I have been distracted from my work only three time,” the Netherlands began. England prepared himself for a scolding that he was not entirely sure he had earned. “The first time was twenty centuries ago, and I was distracted by a beetle that had tangled itself in my hair. It made an awful buzz, and it was uncomfortable to feel it squirm, and I made four mistakes within my work of revenue that day. The second time was eleven centuries ago, when I had fallen ill due to a lack of exercise, as I do not have the time to stroll. I am serious, I am. I work rather than waste time.”

England thought vaguely that taking care of one's own physique was not necessarily a waste of time, but he also knew better than to interrupt.

“The third time, well, this is it. As I was saying...five-hundred and one million...”

“Million what?”

The Netherlands suddenly realized, with a large amount of reluctance and annoyance, that there was no hope of peace. “Millions of those little things that we sometimes see in the sky,” he answered.

“Flies?” England asked, now feeling rather smart, as well as quite prepared to test the other country's patience. It was not quite within his manners to torment his host, but England just could not help himself.

The Netherlands scoffed. “Of course not. The little things that shine.”

“Bees?”

The Netherlands stared at England, for since when did bees shine. “Of course not. The small, gilded things that make the loafers daydream. But I am serious, I am. I do not have the time to daydream.”

England faked a sudden revelation. “Ah! Stars?”

“That's right,” the Netherlands nodded. “Stars.”

“And what are you doing with five-hundred millions of stars?” England asked.

“Five-hundred and one million, six-hundred and twenty-two thousand, seven-hundred and thirty-one,” the Netherlands corrected. “I am serious as I am accurate.”

England could not care less the exact number. “And what do you do with these stars?”

“What do I do?”

“Yes.”

“Nothing. I own them.”

England paused, and watched the Netherlands as the Netherlands watched him back. “You own the stars?” England clarified.

“Yes.”

And then England was overwhelmed with exasperation and dry amusement at the simple minds of other nations. With a breathy scoff and humorless laugh, he said, “But I have already seen a king, an emperor, from the east, who...”

The Netherlands cut him off, seemingly gloating. “Kings do not own. They rule. It is very different.”

England did not see the difference. Neither could touch or influence the stars. Still, he asked, “And what good does it do you to own the stars?”

“It serves me to be rich.” Ah, the simplicity of greedy minds.

“And how does it do you good if you are rich?”

“To buy other stars,” Netherlands waved a careless hand. “If somebody finds more.”

England reasoned that perhaps the Netherlands was a little like Denmark. However, he still had questions. “How can you possess the stars?”

“Who else would they belong to?” retorted, grumpily, the Netherlands.

“I do not know. To no one, I would suppose.”

“So they therefore have me. Because I thought to own them first.”

England regarded the Netherlands incredulously. “That's enough?”

“Of course,” and the Netherlands was so sure-sounding of himself that England could have believed him if the whole conversation had not been so ridiculous. “When you find a diamond that is not owned by anyone, it is then owned by you. When you find an island that no one has claimed, it is owned, then, by you. When you get an idea first, you patent it; the idea is yours. And for me, I own the stars because nobody else before me ever dreamed to possess them.”

“It is true,” said the little prince. “And what do you do with them?”

“I deal with them. I counted, and I've recount them,” said the Netherlands. “It is that difficult. But I'm a serious man, and I can handle difficult work.”

England still was not satisfied. “Me, if I own a scarf, I could put it around my neck and take it. Me, if I own a flower, I could pluck that flower and take it. But you cannot take the stars.”

“No,” the Netherlands conceded. “But I can put them in a bank.”

“What does that mean?”

“That means that I write on a piece of paper the number of my stars. And then, I put this paper in a drawer and lock it with a key.”

“And that's all?”

“That's enough.”

'It is nice', thought England. 'It is quite poetic. But this is not very serious.' England was interested in the serious parts of the ideas of other countries.

“Me,” England found the need to continue, “I own land that I take care of every day. I have several royals, which I help out every week. I even help those who don't know their own way, or those who have completely lost their way. We never know. It is helpful to my people, and it is useful to my country, that I own them and take care of them. But you are not useful to the stars.”

The businessman opened his mouth, but found no words with which to answer, and England went away to different lands.

'Other countries are decidedly rather extraordinary,' he said to simply himself during his trip away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god, that's finally done. I didn't even bother checking my spelling and grammar. Whoops.
> 
> I originally wanted to change the stars to miles of land or miles of ocean. But, after a while, I thought that it is useful and helpful to own land or ocean. So, even though the Netherlands is highly practical and owning stars is not, I decided to keep things closer to the book than finding a satisfying parallel. Also, the purpose of the story is to make the other countries seem like fools, so I also thought that giving the Netherlands a reasonable ownership would deter from that effect.
> 
> Enjoy! Don't be afraid to leave comments or kudos, I eat those up like breakfast, lunch, and dinner.


	8. L'Allumeur, le seul raisonnable pays

The fifth country England visited was highly curious. While large in land size and in culture, larger than the Netherlands or Switzerland or many others, England could not help but feel that the country was the smallest of all. There was just enough busyness caused by the country rushing around and the things he was doing, to suffice for the whole country. However, the work with which the country was occupying himself did not seem, to England, of much value or use to a country with small industry or population. However, England promised to himself to give this country the benefit of the doubt.

'Perhaps he is an insane person, indeed, too busy with the idea of being prosperous without working to achieve that prosperity. But he is less foolish than the haughtiness of China, or the vanity of Prussia, or the Netherlands, or Denmark. At least his work makes some sense. When he is prepared for prosperity, it will be like nothing is stopping him, and it will be like his country is reborn all over again. When he pauses in his preparations, he grants himself break enough to recover from his exhausting work and to continue again the next day. It is a worthwhile life; it is useful, and it is rewarding,' as England was always prepared to give another the benefit of the doubt.

However, this country's work seemed less for himself than another, and England sought the other country's attention, since the other seemed highly unlikely to stop and introduce himself, or to properly welcome his visitors.

“Hello,” England began. “What is it that you are busying yourself with, may I ask?”

“This is how it goes,” the country mumbled.

And then, England found himself annoyed that the country was rude as well as unaware. “What is how it goes?” he asked.

“This is the beginning of a country,” responded the other, “And it is the continuing.”

“I don't understand. Are you making a beginning for yourself or making a continuation for another?”

“There is nothing to understand,” the other replied. “This is how it goes.” And the other continued reviewing papers and checking agreements. Then, he wiped a bead of nervous sweat off of his forehead.

There was a silence, before the country paused and spoke again. He met England's eyes this time. “I am Finland, it is good, very good, to meet you, England.” England nodded to indicate his mutual feelings.

“I follow a terrible duty,” Finland bemoaned. Another long silence. “It was nice once,” and then England recognized in Finland's eyes a very similar emotion to the one that Denmark had worn when the Scandinavian country was bemoaning whilst drinking. It seemed, to England, that the two had problems stemming from very similar situations.

“I do his work from dawn to dusk, making sure everything is as it is supposed to be. I have plenty of opportunities to rest during the day and rest again in the night.”

England interrupted. “And, throughout this whole time, your duties have not changed?”

“This is how it goes,” said Finland. “That's the story. The days change and change, and everything goes the same way they always go.”

“So?”

“So now the days move by so fast, and with so much work, I find myself having very little rest. He does not mean anything by it; I doubt he even knows.”

“Well, that's funny,” England laughed. “You speak so fondly of this man who forces you into very undesirable circumstances.” And he felt the mood of the conversation drop in temperature within instances of his utterances. 

“It is not funny,” Finland snapped. “In fact, it has been a month since you have arrived. Perhaps you should go.”

“Go? It has not been a month, but thirty minutes at most,” England protested, wondering where on Earth this country had gotten his horrid calculation of time from.

“Thirty minutes, thirty days; it makes little difference to me any longer,” Finland remained adamant. And he continued going through his work. “I do this for someone dear to me, and you have no right to question our dynamic.”

England watched Finland, and he found himself loving the country who was so faithful to what was his duty. He remembered his dream of always seeing sunsets no matter where he was, without having to search for the next's day's end, and without the impatient wait. He wanted to help Finland.

“You know...I know a way that you can relax whenever you want,” England began his offer.

Finland huffed. “I am always wanting rest,” for one can be lazy and faithful all at once.

England continued: “You speak very fondly of this other man; I'm assuming he is a country, specifically the one beside you on your west. Whenever you grow weary, you can walk across your border of separation between your lands, and you can visit him. He will not turn you away, but welcome you. He will wish for you to rest, with him. And you can rest for however long you want because, as long as you tell him how you feel, he will want you to be happy.”

“I do not want to place my responsibilities on his shoulders,” said Finland. “What I love in life is being helpful to those I love.”

“Then,” England decided, “that is unlucky.”

“I am so unlucky,” Finland agreed. And he went back to his papers.

'That one,' England thought to himself on his journey away from the northern waters, 'would be hated the most by the other countries: by China, by Prussia, by Denmark, and by the Netherlands. China would find him too meek, Prussia would find him too offending, Denmark would be offended that he denies his lover's affections, and the Netherlands would hate his lack of independence.'

'Although, to me, he seems the least ridiculous. Maybe it is because he occupies himself with work while thinking only for others, never for himself.”

England gave a sigh of regret and then said aloud to himself, “That country is the only one I could ever make my friend. But he is far too busy with work for his loved one. There is no place for me between a connection such as that.”

But what England did not admit, aloud or in his mind, that was he regretted most about his visit to Finland, was the nagging sensation that, above all, he remembered how it once felt to have his life completely taken up with thoughts of another. And, besides, Finland was busy enough to distract himself from the wait for the sunset.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School's been a bit busy at the initial start; hopefully things will calm down and I can update on weekdays instead of waiting for weekends. I've become too lazy in my writing. I haven't edited this chapter either to check for mistakes. Whoops.
> 
> Finland is in canon, much more independent than shown here. But I've found that this story, although having many parallels, also has enough differences between characters that I felt more responsible to stay true to the book than the canon Hetalia characters.
> 
> There are some text deviations, practically with everything hinting towards Sweden, and therefore the small bit of Sufin I tagged as implied. And in the book, this man is known as the lamplighter, who lights a lamp at night and extinguishes it at day (and he does so for no reason other than the fact that someone told him to do it and he obeyed without question). I forgot not everyone has read the book, so I might try to give a bit more explanation about the book's story in the endnotes.
> 
> Enjoy!


	9. le fleur éphémère

The final country on his side of the Atlantic that England visited was the land of Russia, ten times bigger than even all of Europe itself. When he met Russia, he was greeted quite formally in an open hall with the empress watching him intently with her court at attention. The personification of Russia was standing beside his ruler, and disappeared after name exchanges, prompting England to wander through the halls of the palace in search of the fellow nation.

England found Russia in the library, mulling over open books of large volume and small print. He had a quill in his hand, and ink smudged all across it, though he had managed to keep his face clean. When Russia noticed England, he put the quill down and did nothing except stare at England in silence. England sat at the table across from Russia, breathing a tad bit heavily from walking through nearly the entire palace.

“What are you studying, might I ask?” England decided to begin the conversation, as Russia certainly was not. “What are you doing?”

“I am studying lands and people,” Russia answered him. The other country never once moved his gaze away from meeting England in the eyes, and something about the way he looked at England made England suddenly feel very self-conscious.

England was surveying his point of escape as he thought of other things to say in order to keep the awkward conversation at least moving. “Your land is very beautiful,” he complimented, thinking of the vast wheat fields he and his company had passed on their voyage; there was enough grain here to last England through a decade, England was sure. “I've heard your coastlines are quite chilly though; do you like your coasts very much?”

“I cannot know,” Russia responded, “if I have not been.”

England was quite disappointed, for he had always spent much time near his oceans. “Well, what of your mountains? I have very few great ranges myself, and I find myself fascinated by others'.”

“I cannot know,” Russia responded, “if I have not been.”

“But what is the point of knowing lands and people if you have never gone!” exclaimed England, who was quite very unsettled by now. “You have never visited your own lands? This is your home, and you do not know all of the places in which you rule? Why not?”

“Because I am required to stay here,” Russia explained. “No one lets me out of this palace. I serve the monarchy because they need me, and I need them. I am too important to be going on strolls to see my coastlines or my mountains or my rivers or my tundra. I am too important to risk danger by mingling with the people. I must not leave the home where my ruler lies; I choose to stay specifically here by my desk.

“But when others come who have traveled all over the world, I find myself interrogating them. I take note of their journeys. But I must also make sure of their integrity, for nothing is worse than being lied to and having incorrect information in the books.”

England shivered, decidedly not asking how this large nation checked the integrity of others. “Why would you go to all of this trouble instead of simply taking the risk and knowing for sure?”

“People who lie are worthless, and I prefer to see them caught then have them slip away. And worse yet are the drunkards. They are utterly unreliable.”

“I know someone who would be an awful person for you to meet,” England grumbled.

“I am sure,” and Russia seemed it. “However, when the integrity of the other is deemed good and trustworthy, than I am willing to listen to everything they could possibly tell me. It is a very complex process. For every fact told to me, I have to double-check it and prove it. It is all very tiring, and often not worth my time. I have more pressing matters to be occupied with, on a usual basis.”

But then, Russia's gaze narrowed on England, forcing the smaller nation to quickly decide which escape route he would put into action soon. “You come from a place far away,” Russia mused, “and you have been to places even farther.”

“Yes,” England could not deny commonly-known truth.

“You will tell me everything,” and England knew that a refusal was not an option.

Russia picked up his quill once more and readied blank papers on which to write, then turned to the silent, sitting, unsettled England. “Go on,” he ordered of the island nation.

“Oh, well, my house...” England trailed off, feeling very insecure. “My house isn't very interesting, I'm afraid. It's very small, and it is an island, and it is made of Scotland and Wales and Ireland and North Ireland and myself. The people there are a bit cold and a bit stale, but perhaps they were once more lively. I do not remember, and one never knows.”

“One never knows,” Russia hummed to himself, writing down what England said.

“It is across the channel that the line is drawn, but I have a border with France?” England tried, feeling that it would be inappropriate to leave out the other country.

“I do not write of borders,” said Russia, tutting.

“Why not? They tell of locations, and this border that I share with France is, in fact, one of the best!” argued England.

“Because they are ephemeral,” Russia explained.

“What does that mean?”

“I,” began Russia, “am the most important nation in the world. My borders expand farther than any other currently does, or ever will be. But even my borders will change over time, though I will always remain the largest nation. But I would not write my borders because they are not constant. I am not interested in things that will change, that I will make change; I am interested in things that do not change. I am interested in things that exist eternally.”

“But you would write of Scotland and Wales and Ireland and North Ireland, though they could cease to exist someday?” interrupted England. “What does ephemeral mean?”

“What matters is that the land would still exist, even if the memories of the names fade. The land would not disappear, it would not change.”

England was growing quite frustrated now. “What does ephemeral mean?” he repeated himself, for England never forgot a question once he had stated said question.

“It means that in which is threatened by imminent disappearance,” Russia finally answered.

England's world stopped a little. “France is threatened by imminent disappearance?”

“Of course,” and Russia kept on talking and explaining, but for a moment, England could not hear what the other nation had to say.

'France and my border with him is ephemeral', he said to himself. 'France only has a few armies and a border to defend himself with, against all of the rest of the world. And I have left him so that he is completely alone.'

That was the first movement of regret within England. But he tried to find courage within himself, and he asked of Russia, “Where should I go next?”

Russia gave England a funny look. “Italy and Spain have found marvelous things across the Atlantic, perhaps you should try?”

“My country is fighting over a leader. I've already done them great injustice by not helping out. I cannot go across the oceans at this time.”

“Go across the Atlantic and find a foothold there,” Russia advised. “It would be better than Spain owning an entire new world.”

England could not find anything to argue that.

And so, England departed for across the Atlantic Ocean, thinking all the while of France.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will probably never edit or revise ever again, so expect small errors here and there. I just don't have the time, I apologize.
> 
> I wanted to make Russia the geographer because Russia is always seemingly watching others and waiting for others to fall without directly acting. And the geographer in Le Petit Prince wanted to write down the entire universe without ever havingto explore the universe himself, so I found parallels there.
> 
> Also the hatred of the drunkard shown by the geographer is like how Russia must have very much disliked Denmark around that time. (Denmark once shared borders with him, Denmark and Sweden and Finland would fight against Russia often, etc.)
> 
> Enjoy!


	10. le Nouveau Monde

The seventh land that England visited was the New World.

The New World is not like any part of the Old World, England realized within moments of stepping onto the dock of the New World. There were leaders everywhere, assuming duties as if kings, there were navigators of all nationalities conversing on the docks, several dozens of businessmen farther on land attempting to forge a living on the land, and many of them drunkards; they were all vain men and women who believed their survival of the journey across the sea was something praise-worthy, and the entire place was so large and wild and new.

If England was to draw a map of the New World, he would need to make magic a common practice in order to maintain all seven continents (including the two new Americans), as well as an honest army of three-hundred and eleven million explorers and geographers to put their knowledge to paper.

England believed that it might possibly be done. From the records of the other explorers, of how long it took to round the tip of Africa and the tip of South America, it would take many more years to traverse all of the land that they had sailed past. And the record the people would be another tremendous task of itself. For there were the British coming along with England. Then, there were the Russians (or lack thereof) that he heard were moving into lands on the other side of this great new continent, across the Bering Strait. Then there were the Africans, the indentured servants and slaves that the Dutch had brought over. There were Finnish and Swedish. There were some Spaniards farther South, and those natives that hunted and lived within the dense forests of the frontier some many miles away. And they were never mistaken in their responsibilities or their duties or the way they were to hold their culture. It was great.

England did not know where to begin exploring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was very short, as you can tell.
> 
> I apologize for the longer wait than usual, I was dreading a long chapter (but to my surprise I found out the true brevity of what I had been dreading). Heh. School is the main reason I didn't find myself with enough time to want to dedicate myself to a new chapter, I apologize.


	11. le nouveau monde et l'espagne

When England had arrived in the New World, he was rather surprised to see hardly any other Europeans there. Falling south of where his home was, and an entire ocean away, the world was full only of the natives of the land. England stood on the deck of his vessel, gazing towards the coast of a small island, he began to fear that perhaps he had gotten himself truly lost when a flash of white appeared on the horizon.

Watching it come closer and closer, England peered through his scope until he recognized the banners of the Spanish. Raising the flags, England prepared himself for a meeting with Spain aboard the Spanish ship.

“Good day,” England said courteously. He was aware that the others in his crew were anxious being so close to an enemy ship, and he wanted to keep this conversation quick and end it without hostility.

“Good day,” said Spain.

“What land is this?” asked England, “I'm afraid our navigator is rather new.”

“This is the New World,” Spain was grinning, “This is the Caribbean.”

“Ah!” remarked England, though he had little surprise. “And pray tell, are there no Europeans in the Caribbean so far? I see natives upon natives, but no European man have I seen until you just now.”

“This is the New World,” Spain repeated. “Europeans have yet to conquer this place. The land is vast, but I have already laid claim to this area. You would find yourself quite isolated here.”

England leaned against the railing of the ship, fiddling with the gold buttons of his jacket, and glanced past the sails toward the skies. “I wonder,” he said, “if the sun is in the sky only so that it might offer a sunset to those who care to watch. But the sunsets here are quite different from my home. My home is always with me, but it is also so far away.”

“Your land is quite beautiful,” Spain replied. “What are you doing here?”

“I've been having difficulties,” England confessed. When Spain raised an eyebrow, he tacked on, “with a flower.” England nearly winced at his own lie.

“Ah!” said Spain. And he was as silent.

“Where might I find other Europeans?” asked England. “It is rather unpleasant in the Caribbean.”

“It is also unpleasant outside of it,” Spain said.

England swung his gaze from the skies to Spain's eyes. “You're rather funny,” he remarked, “very well-dressed for being so less than I or my king.”

“But I am more powerful than you or your king,” Spain answered.

England smiled offhandedly and shrugged. “You're not so powerful; your navy is not even as strong as mine. You could not reign over Europe, and you never got far in China.”

“I got further here,” said Spain. He drew closer to England, making the younger nation back up with thrown confidence. His hand wrapped around England's arm. “I am the empire that rules over these waters and these lands. That which I do not like, I send back to the land from whence they came. But you have not earned my dislike yet. You are much younger, and you came here all from a disagreement with a flower.”

England said nothing.

“You are so pitiful in this New World where you do not belong. I could help you one day, if you regret coming here. I could...”

“Oh!” England cut him off, slightly squirming. Spain withdrew his hand. “I very well understand now what you're saying.” Spain took a step back, and England straightened his posture. “It would have been easier if you had neglected to put puzzles in your words.”

“But I have the answers,” said Spain.

And they were silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not dead. I promise.
> 
> I did not revise or edit. I'm sorry.


	12. six ou sept

England sailed further North from the Caribbean and past large slabs of ice that floated in the icy waters. England took to anchoring the ship and rowing ashore as often as he could, but his searches delivered only beautiful wilderness, lovely hunting, and no Europeans. More than once, there was the panic of a potential weakness of the hull from an ice scrape. More than once, there were mutinous thoughts that had to be quelled.

But it was in the northern land of the New World that England met a small child, of seemingly few years. This child was of nothing, and England was happy with the purity and simplicity presented. He approached the young child, who he noticed had pale skin, and the young child did not run from him.

“Hello,” said England.

“Hello,” said the child.

“Where are the Europeans?” England asked.

The child, a French-Canadian, lived in a small town of no more than a dozen people, a dying town, near the ocean shore, and he had seen a ship or two in passing once.

“Europeans? There are, I believe six or seven. I have seen glimpses of more years ago. But they're rather hard to find. The wind sends them away. They never stay for long.”

England was confused, but he did not push. “Goodbye,” he said, walking away.

“Goodbye,” responded the child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crappy, short thing is a crappy, short thing.
> 
> I feel bad for not updating for long and only with this little bit, but I swear on my life the next will be sooner and longer.
> 
> (midterms jesus christ help)


	13. le jardin des roses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> le petit prince rencontre les autres roses dans le jardin
> 
> the little prince meets other roses in the garden

But it happened that England, after a long walk through the wilderness seemingly untouched, over rocks and under clouds, discovered thus a path. And paths always lead to civilization, of some sort. England followed this path, and, discovered a small town by the bay.

Entering the town, many peered at him as a stranger.

“Good day,” England greeted.

The town was in Canada.

“Bonjour,” responded the people.

Taken aback, England closely looked at the people. They dressed like and spoke like France. England was immensely bothered. These people, so far away from France, were so much like the French peoples.

“Who are you?” England asked, shocked and afraid of the answer.

“We are French-Canadians,” responded one of the women.

“Ah!” England exclaimed, his face devoid of emotion as his heart sang the tune of betrayal.

France had assured him, many times in morning and in night, that he was the only one like himself in all places of the world. And here, before England, proving France wrong, was fifty or sixty French-Canadians completely like France.

'What a good joke,' England thought bitterly. 'How confused France would be to see his falsities that he might just die of shock and embarrassment. And of course, he would make me take care of him after he took to bed in shock, otherwise he'd rattle on about the terrors of death.'

England hesitated, blinking back tears. 'To think that I considered myself blessed to have such company, when I could have voyaged a sea over and found the exact same company. I have left my home because of him, when I should not have. I have left it alone and vulnerable because of him, who lied. He is not special, and I was a fool for ever having believed so.'

Once England had returned to his ship, he sneaked into his quarters. There, he wept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops another short chapter, but much sooner posted. The next chapter is the Fox, which is both long and extremely vital to the storyline, so it may take a week or so (this will be embarrassing should I default on that promise).
> 
> Try and guess who the fox is. Who's the only personification in the New World we've yet to meet?


	14. le renard

It was then that the boy appeared.

“Hello,” said the boy.

England was in the middle of fishing by a stream just in the woods that trailed out to the ocean in a great delta. To find a boy – a white boy – was surprising to him, who had expected none other than the Indians to live past the settled colonies of ‘French’ Canada. He realized that the boy was awaiting a response.

“Hello,” England politely replied. He hesitated, watching the boy, who watched him from beneath the apple tree. “Who are you? It’s quite funny that you’re so far from settlement, isn’t it?”

The boy blinked; he seemed shy and afraid to leave the shade of the apple tree. “I am Canada,” the boy replied.

“Do you want to play?” England offered. “You’re a child, wouldn’t you like a game? I am so sad alone and spending time with you might brighten my mood.”

“I cannot play with you,” the boy answered, shrinking back further. “I’m not civilized.”

England bit his lip, tugging at it with his teeth as he mulled over the boy’s response: the boy who spoke more intelligently than any other boy he had met. In a nation-like state of being, this boy was unique. “I’m sorry,” he apologized reflexively. But, thinking a bit more, he became curious of the boy. “What do you mean by civilized?”

“You aren’t from here,” the boy observed calmly. “What are you looking for here?”

“I’m not sure,” England answered. “People, I suppose. What do you mean by civilized?”

The boy frowned. “People have guns, and they hunt and trespass on the land. They’re rude and loud. And they’re very annoying. But they like stones and furs. It’s all they preoccupy themselves with: stones and furs. Are you looking for stones and furs?”

“No,” England shook his head. “I’m looking for friends. But what did you mean by civilized?”

Finally, the boy answered him. “It’s a forgotten thing,” he whispered. “The true form, that is. Most, now, believe it is to conform. But it is not. It is to create ties.”

“Create ties?” England echoed, confused.

“Of course,” the boy chirped, and he seemed a bit happier and more comfortable. “At this moment, you are nothing more to me than a man – a nation – like a million other men and a few hundred other nations. It’s the same for you. To you, I’m just new land like any other vast amount of new land. But, if you civilize me, we can become great friends and we will no longer be like a million others to each other. You would be, to me, unique in all the world. And I, to you, would be unique as well.”

“I’m starting to understand,” England nodded. He remembered something. “There’s a flower. I think he civilized me.”

“That’s possible,” the boy agreed. “One sees all sorts of things here.”

“Oh!” England exclaimed. “But he’s not from here.”

The boy turned curiously to him. “Is he from the South?”

“He’s from across the sea.”

“Are there hunters there?”

“Less.”

“That…that is interesting. Are there trees and forests and tribes?”

“Not so much.”

The boy hummed. “Nothing is perfect.”

But the boy had an idea: the great kind of idea that only the truest of children can muster in thought. “My life is dull,” he confessed. “I live with the trees and forests. The hunters kill that lives in the trees and forests. All the hunters are the same, and all the days are the same. I am bored without end. But, if you civilized me, my life would become enlightened. I would know a man – a nation – different from all others in the world. The calls of other men would have me retreat into the forest; yours would call me out from it like music. And see: you see the grain the settlers plant? I eat plants and meats from the forest; I’ve no need for the grain. The farms do not call me. And that’s sad. But your hair is the color of the palest grain. And that’s what’s wonderful about civilizing me. I would look at the grain on the farms and think of nothing but you. And I will love the wind through the grain.”

The boy stared at England for a long time.

“Please,” he asked. “Civilize me.”

“I would love to,” England responded honestly, “but I don’t have the time. I have friends and people to discover and many things to know and learn.”

“One will never know anything quite like civilizing,” said the boy. “Men don’t have the time to do or know anything anymore. They buy and sell the things they like from the markets and do little else. They don’t have any friends anymore; men can never be friends with one another. But you will have a friend, if you civilize me.”

“What must I do?” England asked.

“It takes patience,” said the boy, “and lots of it. You must stand in front of me, just a bit away from me, as you are now, and then kneel in these tall grasses. I will watch you from the corner of my eye, and you will not say even a word. Spoken words are the source of misunderstandings, you see. But, every day, who must approach me and kneel a little bit closer.”

And, so, the next day, England returned.

“It’s better if you see me at the same time each day,” said the boy. “If you return, for example, at four o’clock in the afternoon, I will begin to be happy at three o’clock. As the hour of your arrival nears, I will be gladder and gladder. By four o’clock, I will not stop worrying and watching; I will discover the price of happiness. But if you come at any time, I will never be able to prepare myself and protect my heart. We need a routine to follow.”

“A routine?” echoed England.

“It’s a thing that’s often forgotten,” said the boy. “It’s that which you do every day. It’s a routine. The hunters dance every Thursday with the girls from the village. That’s why Thursday is a marvelous day. I can walk through the forest and steal small things from the farms and fields. If the hunters danced whenever they wanted, all days would be the same fright for me, and I would never be calm.”

And then, England civilized Canada. And the time for England’s departure crept closer.

“Ah!” Canada exclaimed. “I’m going to cry.”

“That’s your own fault,” England chided. “I will not excuse you from the blame; you wanted me to civilize you.”

“Of course,” said Canada, blinking up at England.

“But you’re crying!” England restated.

“Of course,” said Canada.

“Then you haven’t won anything!”

“I have won,” disagreed Canada, “because of the color of grain. Now I ask: go to see the French-Canadian colonists again. You will understand that which you hold dearest in the world. You will return once again to tell me goodbye, and I will give you a gift in the form of a secret.”

England returned to see the French-Canadian colonists in their town.

Under his breath, England understood and noticed it. “You do not resemble France; you are nothing alike,” he murmured. “No person has civilized you, and you have not civilized anyone. You are like how Canada was. He was no different than a million other boys. But now he is my friend and a colony under a fellow nation, and he is unique in all the world.”

And the French-Canadian colonists were none the wiser.

“You are French, but you are not him,” he continued. “One cannot die for you. Of course, France might seem ordinary like you. But France is only himself and therefore more important than all of you together. It is him that is within my heart. It is him that shuts the windows against the wind. It is for him that I open my borders. It is him that I listen to complain or vent or tell to shut up. He is mine.”

And he returned to Canada.

“Goodbye,” England bid.

“Goodbye,” repeated Canada. “Are you ready for my secret? It’s very simple: One does not see well without the heart; what is essential, is invisible to the eye.”

“What is essential, is invisible to the eye,” hummed England, tucking it away in his memory.

“It’s time that you return to your flower.”

“It’s time that I return to my flower.”

“Men always forget the truth,” continued Canada. “But you cannot forget it. You must be responsible for every day that you civilize and are civilized. You are responsible for your flower.”

“I am responsible for my flower.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rebonjour

**Author's Note:**

> All quotes I use are MY translations of the French text, so I apologize if it's not completely accurate to the English version of the book, and I, by no means, own anything other than plot-mashing and story-telling here. Everything either goes to Hima or Antoine.
> 
> I DO NOT OWN LE PETIT PRINCE OR HETALIA OR THE CHARACTERS: SHHHHHH


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